


Just a Flesh Wound

by MimiWritesHerFandoms



Category: Jack Ryan & Related Fandoms, Jack Ryan (TV)
Genre: Blood, Blood and Injury, F/M, Guns, Gunshot Wounds, Mild Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2020-01-04 17:41:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18348533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MimiWritesHerFandoms/pseuds/MimiWritesHerFandoms
Summary: You hear a strange noise in the middle of the night.





	Just a Flesh Wound

**Author's Note:**

> I love John Kracinski’s Jack Ryan. I may write more for him, depending on how this is received.

 

It was a subtle sound, like the sound of a heel on a tile floor or maybe the shuffle of papers on a desk, not something the average person would notice, but you were far from average. You put your hand in the open drawer of the bedside table and took hold of your gun, flipping the safety off as you secured it in your hand. You slipped out of bed, not even bothering to stop to put on anything, just moving silently across the room and down the stairs in your tank top and underwear. 

You were halfway down the stairs when you noticed a soft, white light illuminating the dark wooden floor of the living room. You sucked in a deep breath, holding it as you slid around the corner and into the room, gun raised.

You certainly weren't expecting to see Jack on the couch, hands in the air, a slight smirk on his full lips.

"What the hell, Jack?" you snapped, lowering your weapon. "You scared the crap out of me."

"Sorry," he mumbled. "Didn't mean to wake you.” He grimaced as he sat back, a shaky breath leaving him.

“Shit, are you okay?” You set the gun on the table by the door before sitting beside Jack, your hand on his knee, your eyes darting over him, looking for any visible injuries.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “It’s just...my back.” He shrugged. “I’ll be fine.” He slid an arm around your waist, tugging you close.

You let him kiss you, leaning into him. He’d been gone for weeks, somewhere in the middle East, though he couldn’t say where, of course.

“What happened?” you asked, wrapping your arms around him, your head on his chest.

Jack sighed and pressed his lips to the top of your head. “Ten hours on a shitty plane, five hours in a cramped car, then to top it all off, the supposedly secure compound wasn’t so secure.”

You tensed, biting your tongue, knowing you shouldn’t ask, couldn’t ask. Being in danger was par for the course, considering what he did, what you did. It was a dangerous world that you lived in, a fact both of you were completely aware of, a fact you lived with everyday. That didn’t change the fact that every time Jack stepped out the door, every time he got on a plane, every time something happened that would drag him away from you, you would worry. Just like every time you went to work, he worried.

“Three armed gunmen entered the compound about two hours after we arrived,” Jack explained.

Your arms tightened around him, your fingers skittering beneath his t-shirt and settling on a thick, gauze bandage. You grumbled under your breath as you pushed his shirt up, eyeing the startling white patch covering his tanned stomach, a small dot of blood seeping through the center.

“Jack,” you sighed.

His fingers intertwined with yours. “I’m fine,” he shrugged. “It’s just a scratch.”

You crossed your arms, glaring at the man you loved. “Looks like more than a scratch,” you snapped. “You got shot?”

“Grazed,” he corrected. “That’s it. Just grazed. No big deal. Really.”

You carefully removed the bandage, eyes on Jack to see if you were hurting him. The “graze” as he called it, was approximately four inches long and relatively deep; there were staples holding it together. Tears sprung to your eyes and you blew out a shaky breath. Another inch of so to the left, a different angle, and Jack’s guts would have been leaking onto the floor. You gently traced the edge of the wound, then you pressed a kiss to Jack’s sternum and rested your head on his chest.

“You need to be careful,” you murmured.

He wrapped an arm around you, his large hand splayed over your back, his lips against your temple.

“I know,” he sighed. “I’ll try.”


End file.
